The Forever Game
by Tsukinori Kaze
Summary: Sequel to Fire and Wind.  Ryoma has turned his world upside down in pursuit of his dream. The others are chasing dreams of their own...worlds collide. Dreams are born. Dreams die. And the game goes on and on.
1. Prelude

Prelude: What Once Was Mine

**Author****'****s****Note:** **I****'****m****back...here****it****is.****The****sequel****to**_**Fire**____**and**____**Wind**_**.****If****you****haven****'****t****read****my****previous****story,****get****to****it****or****this****one****won****'****t****make****any****sense.****Read****and****review****if****you****'****d****like****more.****Arigatou,****mina!****And****welcome****to**_**The**____**Forever**____**Game.**_

_Flower gleam and glow_

_Let your power shine_

_Make the clock reverse_

_Bring back what once was mine_

It happened on a Tuesday. Ryoma remembered because practice went for an extra two hours on Tuesday. He'd come home to find a letter on his pillow. It happened on a cloudy, frigid Tuesday in mid-December. As it turned out, less than two weeks before his birthday. And Christmas.

For a brief moment, Ryoma thought it was a joke. Surely, it had to be a joke. It was impossible. Two weeks previous to this, he'd woken up with roses in his hand. Months ago, days ago, hours ago, minutes ago…they'd had forever. And in one second, one unsuspecting second, forever disappeared. It slipped out the back door in the middle of the night without a sound. No warning. No preparation. No drama, no screaming, no fighting or tears. No closure. It never stopped being perfect. It was simply gone.

_I'm so sorry for the pain this is going to cause…for what it's worth, I do love you…won't ask you to forgive me…I hope someday…I don't want you to wait…find someone else…you'll forget in no time…I hope someday...don't try to contact me, I won't respond…it's not like it used to be…not your fault…for what it's worth…I hope someday…_

_I love you, Ryoma._

_Goodbye._

It took Ryoma several hours to move from that spot. He did not cry or sob. He did not rage. This was impossible. They'd had forever. They'd had roses and starlight and omelets every morning. They'd had forever. It seemed utterly impossible to him, absolutely and completely impossible, that this could really be it.

Nine months.

Nine. Fucking. Months. Not even a year. It was a joke, of course. It was a sick fucking joke and Ryoma would ring Fuji's neck when he came home. Because he would come home, smiling and laughing. Or even if it wasn't a joke, Fuji would come home after a few weeks…a month at the most, two if the bastard was truly idiotic…and apologize it away. He'd explain that the commitment had spooked him. He'd explain that he'd been stupid.

Ryoma had even accepted the possibility- as much as it sickened him- that Fuji might be with someone else. But of course, as soon as he was done, he'd be filled with regret. He'd realize that this was all a gigantic mistake.

In three months, tops, this letter would be irrelevant. Everything would be back to normal. Ryoma would beat the living shit out of Fuji and then everything would be back to normal. They'd have forever again. There was no way.

There was no way Fuji could just walk out on their forever.

Right?

Seven days. It had been seven days since the letter. No contact. No messages. Fuji's things were simply gone. He'd left a few things. His alarm clock. His electric toothbrush. Things that weren't really that important to him.

Things like Ryoma.

At first, Ryoma broke. He sobbed, he railed against God. He matted Karupin's fur with his tears. Then he calmed down. Laughed at himself. Of course Fuji would come home. He knew it. Of course he would. All he had to do…was….

Ryoma didn't know what to do.

The gifts Fuji had showered him with. He didn't know whether to hold them close or burn them to ashes.

He didn't know whether to love Fuji or to hate him.

He didn't know whether to go out and fuck a random stranger or wait patiently for Fuji to come to his senses.

Part of him wanted to hurt Fuji. If Fuji didn't care, if he could just walk out, why should Ryoma keep his legs closed? Why should he save himself for such a cold, lying, heartless, promise breaking son of a whore?

Part of him recoiled in horror at the idea of anyone else touching him.

It disgusted him that he could belong to someone who quite possibly didn't even want him.

He didn't know anything at all. And this was horrifying. He was petrified. What if he felt the wrong thing? What if he felt hope and it was crushed? What if he moved on and Fuji came home? What if he breathed the wrong way?

He could shatter the fragile reality he lived in where everything was okay. It was hard to hold onto something that may never happen. But it was impossible to let go.

It was a double edged sword.

And there were moments when Ryoma thought he could live without Fuji. That Fuji had lost the right to his love.

But they were only moments.

And so Ryoma waited. He was officially single. He made it look easy. But on the inside, the only thing that kept him together…was very person who was tearing him apart.

_I__wish__I__could__hate__you._ Ryoma thought bleakly, staring at the ceiling. The bed was cold and empty beside him. He knew he would not sleep tonight. But he would not cry either…and so tonight was a victory. He took them where he could get them.

_You fucking idiot._

_How could you do this?_

_How could you leave me alone? You promised…you swore you'd never leave me alone…_

_How could I have let myself believe you?_

_Fuck it._

_I don't care. I'm going to forget you. I can have whoever I want. _

…_.._

_I miss you._

_Fuji._

_Come home._

_Don't say goodbye._

_We have more time._

_You promised. _

_I hate you._

_I hate you!_

…_I don't care why you did this._

_I don't care. _

_I'll never forgive you._

_But come home._

_Please…God…_

_Please come home._


	2. Chapter One: In the Morning

**Author's Note: I'm back. I apologize for the long hiatus but it's summer now and I intend to see this through. I hope you all are still interested in reading because I've got more chapters in the works. I felt guilty leaving you all in the lurch. Anyway, enjoy! Also, I keep trying to put breaks in and it keeps not working. Somebody help! **

_Chapter One: In the Morning _

You would think that the nights would be the hardest. That's what Ryoma told himself as he slid into bed, hair wet from the shower, naked and shivering. He had no more clothes that did not smell like sweat, tears and instant ramen. He could not bring himself to wash anything.

He didn't know what day it was. He had stopped counting last week. Or was it the week before? His phone lay dead buried beneath a pile of take out boxes. The house phone he had unplugged.

He tried his hardest to sleep from breakfast until dinner, with nothing to get up for and nothing to do it. He tried his hardest to eat, watch TV and sleep with minimal time for sleeping in between. He had even considered taking too much cough medicine to expedite the process.

He was quite sure that they had kicked him out of the program in one of those phone calls. He had not been to practice in three weeks. His racket was leaning against the coat rack, the coat rack with Fuji's dapper pea coat still hanging there.

The only things Ryoma had taken down were the photographs. Everything else he left where it was. Fuji would return. Of course he would return.

And if he didn't…well…if he didn't…

Ryoma shook his head. These thoughts did no good. No good. No good.

Fuji had to return, like the sun always had to rise. What else was there? What other option was there?

Ryoma slept reasonably well that night. He curled himself up into a ball, wishing for Karupin's warm presence. He did not allow himself to wish for Fuji. It would drive him insane.

The smell of lemon scented the sheets still.

In the morning, he rose and calmly, quite calmly, walked to the bathroom and retched the limited contents of his stomach into the toilet.

_Yes_, he thought bitterly, _you would think the nights would be the hardest. _

Eiji woke up the sound of Oishi snoring. His doubles partner/best friend/lover had snuck in through window the night before. Oishi lacked Fuji's cat like grace, he had nearly broken his neck in the effort.

But it was too dangerous now to use the front door. Oishi's father had placed a very blunt call to Eiji's and with that, the two were forbidden from spending any time together behind closed doors. It didn't stop them. Feverish with desire, they had been unable to help themselves and had been sneaking into each other's rooms nearly every day for months now. Oishi's parents had tried to send him away, to separate him from Eiji—Eiji, who had clearly infected Oishi with his effeminate ways and bouncy hair—but Oishi had flat out refused to go.

Eiji put up with the snoring. The sex was something of the other world and it made the snoring worth it.

Across the room, his cell phone began to vibrate. Carefully, he pushed himself up on one hand and flipped over Oishi's sleeping body. He managed to get to the phone in time, frowning gently when he saw Tezuka's name on the Caller ID.

Tezuka had been reclusive lately. He and Inui were attending some school for super nerds across town, while Eiji, Oishi and Kawamura had gone on to Seigaku High. Kawarau had given up tennis and was now on the student council, which took up all his time. It was just the Golden Pair now and they were only on reserve, with a coach that refused to play them.

Nothing gold can stay. The team tried to meet up from time to time but…it was never really the same.

Without Fuji…without Ryoma…it could never really be as it was.

"Tezuka? Is everything okay? It's 2 am."

There was silence on the other end of the phone for such a long moment that Eiji wondered if he had been butt dialed.

"…Have you heard from Fuji?"

Eiji blinked.

"Yeah, actually. This morning."

The two had been keeping a regular email correspondence. Fuji told Eiji all kinds of stories about America and the Young Champion's training program. He said that Ryoma was well and sent his love.

Eiji could hear Tezuka's breath hitch.

"Where is he?"

Eiji frowned, confused.

"He's in America. With ochibi."

"No, he's not. Ryoma hasn't seen him in over a month."

"That doesn't make any sense. He told me—,"

"He lied."

There was a sharp edge to Tezuka's voice that made Eiji suddenly feel cold.

"I don't understand."

"Fuji left. Nobody's seen him. And the things he's been telling you are lies."

The world suddenly rocked under Eiji's feet, as if he were dancing on a barge.

"What?"

"Fuji is gone. His parents don't know where he is. He hasn't touched any of his credit cards for weeks. Before talking to you, I had started to think he might be dead."

Eiji let out a little scream.

"Gone? How can he just be gone?"

"Eiji…if you don't know, nobody does."

"Why would he do that? Why would he do something like that?"

"I don't know. I have to go, Eiji. Call me if you hear from Fuji again."

The line went dead.

And that was how Oishi woke to the sound of Eiji's mewing little sobs, like a kitten that had lost its mother.

She went before the sun had reached its peak in the sky. The sweat was still damp on her skin from her morning run, her long braid tucked into the back of her jacket. She strode right past the doorman, who could only sputter after her as she breezed through the lobby. She held up her ID card behind her as the elevator doors slid shut.

She was home so rarely that many of the doormen didn't even know she lived here. She wasn't going to her floor, though.

She made sure to knock with as much force as she could muster, banging the end of her racket against the door for good measure. She hurt a muttered curse from inside, followed by a loud crash.

After a minute, a weary voice called out "Just leave it by the door."

"I'm not the pizza delivery man, you little brat. Open up."

"…Rin?"

"No, Santa Claus. Open the door, Echizen."

"Now isn't a good time."

"Why not? Are you having butt sex?"

The door flew open and a hand wrapped itself around her wrist, yanking her inside before the it was slammed shut.

Ryoma looked like death. His once healthy, tan skin had grown sickly and wan. He had taken on a yellowish tint and his luminous golden orbs were dull. His hair was wild and stuck to his forehead in sweaty clumps. He was wearing nothing but a pair of black boxer shorts that Rin could only pray, had not once been some other color.

He stank, too, Rin noted, with a little wrinkle of her nose.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he hissed at her. But his tone lacked any real bite. This version of Ryoma, this pale child that stood before her, could not do her any harm.

"I came to save you from yourself. Come back to practice. Today. I convinced the coaches to give you one more chance."

Ryoma looked at her, baffled, as if he could not even remember what tennis was.

"They cut me already."

"No, they didn't. The program has held your spot, at my insistence."

He looked at her with eyes that were glazed over and tired.

"Well, that was nice of you. But I don't want it."

She reached out a hand and slapped him clean across the right cheek. Then, without missing a beat, she brought it back and slapped him across the left.

"Now," she said stiffly, "I've had quite enough of this. Go take a shower and meet me back here in twenty minutes. One second late and I will come in a drag you out naked."

"But…"

"Listen to me. Fuji has officially withdrawn from the program. He has no intention of coming back. And I have no intention of letting you waste anymore time."

His lower lip quivered slightly and for a moment, Rin thought that he might burst into tears. He covered his face with his hands.

"Rin…please go. There's nothing left for me here now."

She slapped him again. He gaped at her for a long moment, eyes swimming with unshed tears. And then he turned around and went, without another word.

A moment later, Rin heard the sound of water running.

She looked around the apartment, which was covered in pizza boxes, empty ramen cartons and dirty clothes. She set about throwing things into the garbage, collecting the clothes in a pile and wiping down whatever she could get to with some cleaning products she found under the sink. She opened the windows in the kitchen to let in some fresh air. The smell of the morning rushed in, a welcome relief from the stink of desperation and old food.

She had expected him to be broken. But still, it made her heart ache to see how little fight he had left in him.

When Ryoma finally emerged, dressed in his trademark white and red tennis outfit, she tossed him a bottle of water from her bag.

"Drink."

He did so without a word of protest.

She closed the distance between them and ruffled the top of his damp hair, pressing her cheek to his ear in a soft kiss.

"You're a bitch, you know that?" Ryoma muttered.

"Oh hush. I gave you a month to wallow."

"…how did you know? That Fuji and I…?"

"I'm not as stupid as the rest of them. Roommates don't look at each other that way."

Ryoma let out a hoarse, pathetic excuse for a laugh.

"It doesn't matter anymore."

Rin averted her gaze.

"When my brother died," she said flatly, "I quit playing tennis. He taught me and it was too hard, so I quit. But we learn to go on."

She gripped his chin in her hands and forced him to meet her gaze.

"We learn to go on. We are champions. We move forward. That is who we are."

Two tears slid down Ryoma's drawn cheeks.

"I don't want it to be this way."

"I know."

"It's not fair."

"I know."

"…I don't know how to go on."

Rin's lips quirked upwards in a sardonic smile.

"One step. Then another. And then the one after that."

She wrapped her arms around his waist and guided him to the door, resting her head against his shoulder.

"It's a beautiful day."

Ryoma said nothing. His eyes were fixed somewhere far away, on the only sun that he cared about, disappearing slowly behind the clouds.

"Will he come back?" he whispered, more to himself than to her.

Rin shook her head slowly, recalling a day three years ago when she had stood by a hospital bed, asking herself the same question.

"If God is kind."

"I don't believe in God."

"Neither do I."

_When you're dreaming with a broken heart _

_The waking up _

_Is the hardest part._


End file.
